Lost in Translation
by Riona Winters
Summary: She doesn't know why she's here or how to get back. She doesn't speak their language and they don't speak hers. Was it all a dream or did something catastrophic happen to her that landed her in this nightmare?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Wakening

She went to sleep in her queen bed that night, just as she did every night. There had been a soft patter of rain on the windows, a natural lullaby that brought her the usual comfort and serenity before she fell asleep in anticipation of the next morning. But when she woke up, it was not to the sound of her iPhone, nor to dogs barking or trucks roaring down the street. It was to voices. Very soft, smooth voices that were _very_ close to her. Before her eyes were even open, she felt herself panic, her heart in her throat and her body stiff with terror. Who was in her room? She felt someone press a hand to her breast right over her heart and she bolted upright, eyes wide and the words _rape, kidnapped, _and _molestation _flitting in and out of her thoughts. The dull white ceiling of her bedroom was nowhere to be found; instead it had been replaced with faces. Gorgeous faces, unearthly faces…faces that were eerily beautiful and they terrified her more then the slimiest of Hollywood monsters. Their fair features and long, beautiful flaxen hair were unnatural…these beings were human yet…_alien_.

She let out a terrified half yell, half scream – she wasn't the kind to shriek her head off and so the foreign noise that issued from her lips frightened her even more. She scrambled back, her palms scraping against rocks and splintered wood, making her aware of her surroundings. A forest. She was in a forest that reminded her dimly of the redwood forest in northern California. But that hardly mattered. All she knew was that she was not in her bed and - after looking at the blood on her scraped hands - this was _not_ a dream.

And those people…they were speaking and moving towards her.

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><p>Author's Note: It's been a while, I know. But I've been bitten by the writing bug - I make no promises as to where this is going or for how long, but I have to itch the scratch for as long as I have it. I'm writing this without direction, not knowing where it's going - I have no beta, nor do I want one...I just wanted to write and post, so I am. I invite you along on the adventure with me, but as I said, I make no promises. I WOULD, however, like to make this story a bit unique. I was browsing through some old LOTR favorites of mine and realized that there were so few stories that held something different, a unique plot and circumstance and therefore, I'd like to give you all the opportunity to throw out what YOU would like to read, what YOU would like to see happen or NOT happen...I don't guarantee I'll take the suggestions, but I'd really like to know what you guys want and I'll consider them (with due credit, of course). Just an idea.<p>

Disclaimer (applies to all chapters): J R R Tolkien is the mastermind behind the world of Lord of the Rings and thereby owns all places and characters that go along with that, however Evelyn and any other non-LOTR characters are mine including the general plot. If you steal, well, there's not a whole lot I can do about it but shame on you none-the-less.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Rock and a Hard Place

They were approaching her cautiously, speaking in a language she did not know and gesturing at themselves, then her. There were four of them, all dressed in odd clothing of earth-toned leather and cloth. They had elaborate weapons one might find on a movie set or in a book about King Arthur: bows and arrows, knives and belts with pouches attached to them. They all looked similar with fair hair and skin, however their faces were different shapes and their features varied, assuring her that they were not clones. They were ethereal and the longer she looked at them, the more anxious and terrified she became. She wanted to run as far away from them as she could, but her mind and body seemed to be separate, the latter seemed to have frozen blood in her veins for her limbs were unyielding. One of the men, the tallest of the four, motioned for the others to stop. He spoke softly to them in the same strange language then pointed to himself and then to a direction behind them. The other three hesitated, looking at her as if uncertain whether or not she was harmless (sitting there in a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants like she was). The tall man spoke once more, a hint of - what she thought was - urgency and reassurance in his voice.

While they were distracted, she took the chance to quickly assess her surroundings and see how possible it was for her to flee. The forest was certainly beautiful, there was no doubt about it, and while the tall, grand-looking trees were interspersed, the forest floor was still strewn with rotting trunks of fallen trees, dense ferns and large moss covered rocks. She glanced at her bare feet and bit her lip – she had two choices: stay and have them do god-knows-what to her or slice her feet open in an attempt to escape into an unknown area? She looked back at the men – she could tell they were agile and well built beneath the leather they wore, so chances were they'd catch her before she'd gone ten feet. The odds did not look good.

As she stood there debating, movement caught her attention and she saw that the men had finished arguing and three of them were now jogging into the forest in the direction the tall one had pointed to – she blinked at how silently and quickly they moved, blending in with the trees and disappearing before her very eyes. She was so fixated on their departure that she didn't notice the tall one until he was standing mere feet from her. With a start she stumbled backwards, her heel hitting a rock painfully but she managed not to fall. This was it – there was only one of them and it was now or never.

She had barely turned around and taken a single step when the man caught her shoulder in a gentle but firm grip. It was like he'd anticipated this. Holding her in place, he walked around until he stood in front of her. He said something that sounded very much like 'no' as he did so. Once in front of her he cautiously lowered his hand and shook his head saying the word again. His eyes seemed to plead with her, as if willing her to understand him, but all she could do was stare at his weapons. Sensing the direction of her gaze, he took a step back and, very slowly, removed his bow and long blades from his back and laid them on the ground before standing back up. Staring at them, she unconsciously eased her stance a little. He seemed to take it as a good sign. Half smiling, he looked around, searching for something before finally saying a word that sounded oddly like "leg-less" and placing his hand on his chest. Puzzled, she tilted her head, and then shook it, bewildered. Frowning, he shifted his weight and stared intently at her. She noticed with a start that his eyes were an electric blue, but instead of scaring her further in their alien appearance and color, she found it oddly soothing. He patted his chest again and repeated the word. She finally realized that he was telling her his name. Slowly she nodded in understanding. After another moment's hesitation, she copied his hand motion and said, "Evelyn". The man's face brightened and he once more motioned to himself and said the word that she finally recognized as "Leg-o-las" then gestured to her and said, in a broken repeat of what she said "Eeve-lynn" She nodded and he smiled. He looked around once more, before staring at the ground, apparently thinking. He next spoke to her in a different language from the one he originally used – he was obviously trying to see if there was a common dialect between them.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. I speak English. You know…English? Ingles? I'm from America?"

It was his turn to cock his head then shake it – she noticed the look of astonishment that flitted across his features before he schooled them once more. Evelyn tried again.

"Uh…parle-vous francais? Habla espanol? I'm sorry, I don't know any other languages," He obviously understood that she was trying to speak to him in the languages she knew, but it was no good. Trying a different tactic, Evelyn spoke again but this time, she was slower and enunciated her words.

"Where am I? How did I get here? And who are you?" Legolas looked at her confusedly.

She sighed a little frustrated – how was she supposed to get across to him what she was saying? Then, in an odd burst of memory, she recalled her ancient art history professor saying that pictures were a language every race knew – art was something that was created before words were and therefore easily interpreted by anyone. Looking around for a stick, Evelyn waved for him to come closer and kneel on the ground with her. Grabbing a piece of wood she drew a series of, what she hoped were generic pictures of what she was asking. After a good few minutes of 'erasing' the pictures and making gestures, Legolas finally seemed to understand what she was saying. He took the stick from her and reciprocated her actions, explaining through surprisingly detailed pictures that he and his friends were traveling when they found her. He did not know how she came to be here. Evelyn was shocked. For some reason, she'd expected him to know how she got here and the fact that he didn't brought her worry back tenfold. Had she been kidnapped in her sleep? Perhaps she _was _dreaming – she'd once read somewhere that people who were in a coma had dreams they'd swear on their life was real – was she in a coma? Did something catastrophic happen to her in her sleep? What was going on?

Suddenly she let out a small cry of pain – she'd been unknowingly wringing her injured hands together in her lap and the dried blood was replaced with fresh blood from the irritated cuts. She stared at them. One couldn't feel pain in their dreams, could they? She felt pin-pricks in her eyes and knew she was crying. She hastily wiped the unbidden tears away on the sleeve of her t-shirt. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt warm, calloused hands take her own. She'd momentarily forgotten Legolas was there. She looked at him, veins of terror creeping up on her once more like ice, but when he tenderly stroked her hands, she realized he only wanted to help. Feeling silly, she allowed him to reach into the pouch on his belt and pull out some leaves and cloth before placing the former in his mouth and chewing on them. He then brought her hands closer to him and placed the now paste-like, green substance on her cuts. She winced a little from both pain and mild disgust. It had, after all, been in his mouth – how sanitary could that be? But the minute the paste hit her wounds, she felt a cooling sensation and immediately, her injuries felt soothed. With the tenderness of one working on a bird's broken wing, he wrapped her hands in bandages before releasing her. She mumbled her thanks, placing them back in her lap.

She knew he was observing her, but she kept her eyes on the dirt floor. This was too much and she was scared – too many things were unknown and she had no idea what to do. It was not something she was used to. A tap on her shoulder made her look up. Legolas was standing and holding his hand out to her, obviously wanting to help her up. She looked at the spot where he'd been and noticed his weapons were gone. He must've placed them back on his person.

She looked at his outstretched hand again.

So this was it. She knew that, by accepting his help she placed her fate in his hands – the hands of this beautiful, but alien stranger. If she did not, then she was left to defend herself in a place she had no idea of the dangers or of the location. She looked around her; the wood truly was gorgeous and, she assumed, deceptively beautiful and calm. She looked at the man – he too was gorgeous, beautiful and calm…but she did not think he was deceptive. After all, he _had _just bandaged her hands, how dangerous could he be?

Her decision made, Evelyn brushed her red hair from her eyes and placed her bandaged hand in his.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> No beta (don't want one) and that means it's unedited so sorry for the missed grammar and spelling mistakes. Also, please note that I'll be using elvish in the future and I KNOW it's not completely accurate so please don't give me crap for it - I'm not looking to be an expert on the language, just want it for the story's sake. Finally, while I'll be using things from the book AND the movie, it isn't going to be completely accurate so please don't be all "canon, original fangirl/fanboy stickler" on me - this is a story and I'm enjoying writing it and I hope you're enjoying reading it.

P.S. Sorry if I sound rude, it isn't meant to be that way, I just don't want people hounding me for things that don't matter to the story :-)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: New Introductions, Old Relations

Legolas led her in the same direction as his fellows, occasionally helping her over fallen trees and large rocks. Once in a while she winced when she stepped on something jagged and sharp, but overall she managed. After only a few minutes they came to a small clearing where a beautiful white horse stood munching on some grass. It had no saddle or reins on it, which Evelyn found odd. Legolas walked up to it and spoke to it in the same musical language he first spoke to her in. The horse brought its head up and nuzzled him before following its master over to where Evelyn stood. Evelyn's eyebrows raised a little – she'd never seen a horse act like that before. Patting its neck, Legolas said "Lalaith" – the horse's name. Evelyn nodded in understanding. He smiled then, with an ease and grace that reminded Evelyn of his unnatural existence, he bounded atop the horse then held his hand out to her. She raised an eyebrow at him and snorted.

"Oh yeah, right…like I can manage to get up there without a step stool. And even if I did, there's no saddle so how would I stay on?"

Legolas stared at her, apparently bemused. Sighing, she walked closer and patted the horse's back, sliding her hand up and down it's spine.

"No saddle. Fall." She stamped the ground to emphasize. Chuckling, Legolas slid off the horse and, before she could so much as make a sound of protest, lifted her by her waist with unnatural strength and placed her on the horse's back. Startled, Evelyn sat rigid, her whole body ramrod straight. He'd lifted her like she weighed no more then a child. And now she was on the horse. She was suddenly grateful for the flannel pajama pants she wore.

Legolas leaped lightly up in front of her then turned a little and took both her arms in either of his hands, bringing them around his waist and clasping them together. He held them there tightly with one hand, indicating that she should hold on. Evelyn nodded, eyes wide. A blush crept up her cheeks at the thought of how close she was to this stranger. She decided to stare intently at a point beyond his shoulder in the wood so as to not think about it. He chuckled again then spoke to his horse. Immediately Lalaith broke into a swift trot before turning it into a gallop. For the second time that day, a noise unlike anything she'd ever uttered before escaped Evelyn's lips in surprise and slight fear. She clutched Legolas, her chest glued to his back, terrified of falling off. She'd ridden horses before but never as a passenger and it was quite unsettling.

The trees blurred past and they made many twists and turns along the dirt and moss covered path. She began to feel a little queasy, her head beginning to pound in time with the hooves of the horse. Shutting her eyes, Evelyn rested her forehead on Legolas' back, relishing in the feel of the cool leather against her flushed skin. She focused on her breathing…_in…out…in…out…_

How in the world did she get to this point? Why wasn't she waking up? What was going to happen? Her thoughts swirled in her head, crashing together like waves against the solid thick rock that was the unknown. Feeling this line of thinking was getting her nowhere she focused instead on the forest. The smell of sweet, recently fallen rain that sill clung to crisp green leaves mixed with the worn leather of the tunic she leaned against, the sound of small birds chirping their songs high in the tree tops, the feel of-

"Eeve-lynn?"

Evelyn snapped her eyes open, momentarily forgetting where she was and feeling slightly disoriented. When it all hit her, she immediately sat upright – ignoring the crack her back made - and looked around. They had stopped. But they weren't in the forest anymore, well actually they were, sort of, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen or could possibly imagine. The fact of the matter was no human could have constructed what her eyes now beheld. On a raised island of rock with numerous waterfalls spilling from the top and nestled in a valley between two cliffs stood a structure that seemed both of the earth itself and yet crafted by hands, but clearly not of human nature. It was art nouveau architecture at its finest. It was paradise. Each arch, each pillar, each stone seemed to be connected to the next one, going on and on, melting into each other in unearthly craftsmanship. It looked as if whoever had built the place seemed to build it _around_ the waterfalls, the trees and the grass, almost like it were apart of the earth itself and the master builder merely guided it as it grew.

"Oh my God," she whispered, the awed words out of her mouth before she could stop them. Legolas turned around and looked at her, smiling at the look on her face. He nodded in understanding. She continued to gaze in wonderment – time had to have stood still in a place like this, with it's splendor and seclusion.

"Rivendell," Legolas said, pointing at the connected buildings. The word rolled of his tongue like water and once again, Evelyn found herself admiring the beautiful language.

"Rivendell," she repeated in a whisper.

Legolas turned around and urged the horse on. It was then that she noticed that the path they were traveling on was hewn from the earth on the side of a gigantic wall of jagged rock…and they were _very_ close to the edge. She didn't have to look down to know that they were _extremely _high up_._ She tightened her grip on Legolas and scooted closer, directing her attention to what lay before them. After some time, they were level with the trees and the path smoothed out. The air was warmer down here and the sun seemed more like transparent gold then actual light as it slanted across the trunks of trees and the soft grass. It felt like she was in a fairy tale and she was riding up to a palace where something, she didn't know what, but something exciting awaited her. At some point in the last – she glanced up in the direction of the sun – 2 or 3 hours, the fear and anxiety she'd felt so acutely had ebbed away to nothing and was replaced with warmth and reassurance. How peculiar.

They reached a bridge that crossed over one of the larger waterfalls and led up to the building itself. Up close, she saw that the structure was much larger and far more open then she'd anticipated. She glanced around her and saw, sprinkled throughout the trees statues of beautiful men and women like Legolas draped in cloths and posing in different states. Some seemed to be praying, others weeping and still others seemed to be rejoicing. They were as beautiful as the house before her.

Legolas steered the horse through an archway that was formed by the building sloping upwards then curving around to a larger building, which, in turn, sloped and curved into another, then another. The stone archway, she was startled to notice, was flanked on either side by two ramrod straight men garbed in fluid looking golden armor with sleek, deadly looking swords at their sides; she'd mistaken them at first for statues. They seemed very formidable, but elegant at the same time; it gave new meaning to the words 'deadly grace'.

Legolas and Evelyn continued past them before stopping in an open area lined with trees and ferns. A covered pavilion stood to their left, in front of which was a small pond that streamed beneath a small bridge and into an area behind the pavilion. Directly in front of them was a raised, covered walkway held up by spidery pillars that connected the back of the pavilion with the building on their right. Evelyn noticed there were people walking about; through the pavilion and on the walkway, but unlike her leather-clad companion, they were dressed in elegant gowns and robes made of, what she assumed was silk and velvet. And their physical features, though very fine and chiseled like Legolas', were slightly altered with dark hair instead of white blonde. A few of them looked up from what they were doing and nodded at them, some even _bowed_. It was all very odd. Legolas greeted them in turn, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his head. But some still stared and, with a jolt, Evelynn realized they were staring at her with blank expressions on their faces – it made her feel uneasy.

Abruptly, Legolas swiveled off the horse and onto the ground, leading it to the building on the right. He held out his arms and Evelyn hesitantly shimmied to the left, nearly falling off the horse and into his arms. He caught her and set her gently onto the ground but kept his hands under her elbows, supporting her.

"I'm fine," she said, looking at his hands then at him, nodding. He cocked his head to the side doubtfully. "I promise," she said with a smile, moving her elbows a little.

Tentatively, he removed his hands and stepped back. She nodded and took a step forward. She'd had wobbly legs before, but they were _nothing _compared to what she felt now. Instead of obeying her command, her knees buckled under her weight and turned instantly to jelly and she stumbled. Apparently ready for this, Legolas quickly steadied her, his hands flashing out to her sides gently holding her. She flushed bright red and didn't dare look around to see who'd noticed.

"Shit, ok, that was dumb. I haven't ridden a horse in years so of _course _I'll be sore after riding one for a couple hours," she grumbled to herself as Legolas escorted her to a nearby bench. Once she was settled, he motioned towards the steps that led into the building they'd stopped in front of, indicating that he would be back soon. Evelyn nodded and thanked him. He understood the gesture and trotted up the steps quickly before disappearing through the archway.

Evelyn turned away from where the man disappeared and focused on the pond that was several feet in front of her. She knew the people were still looking at her and she shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the hem of her vintage Goo Goo Dolls t-shirt. All of them were beautiful and so elegantly dressed that she felt suddenly self-conscious and began picking off bits of leaves and dirt. When she'd finished that, she started twisting her old, silver antique ring on the middle finger of her right hand; a nervous habit of hers. Some movement caught her attention and she looked up and into the face of a beautiful woman. She hadn't even heard her approach! But if that was surprising, it was nothing compared to the astonishment Evelyn felt as her gaze fell upon one of the most stunning creature she'd ever beheld. The woman's fair and kind face was smooth and ageless; her skin was white as snow and hair dark as a raven's wing. Her grey eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief among other things and suddenly, Evelyn was reminded of the childhood fairy tale princess, Snow White. She was the most striking woman Evelyn had ever seen with the kind of timeless beauty one saw only in their mind's eye conjured by the words of a distinguished author. She wore a lavender gown trimmed in silver and her dark hair was long with intricate braids at her temples and behind her ears. Her _pointed _ears. Evelyn's eyes darted to the ears of those around her – they _all _had pointed ears. She had no idea what to make of it and returned her gaze to the woman before her. Evelyn noticed that her forehead was adorned with a delicate circlet of vine-like silver and upon her neck was a pendant that looked like a cross between a flower and a star. She felt herself flush once more when she realized how inadequate she must have appeared sitting before the fairy-like woman. As if sensing this, the woman smiled warmly and Evelyn's stomach dropped when her beauty was magnified. But it was nothing compared to when she next spoke.

"Mae govannen, meldis. Im Arwen Undómiel o Rivendell a Elrondiel" Well met, friend. I am Arwen Evening Star of Rivendell and daughter of Elrond.

The words washed over Evelyn like water and silk and she felt, a little embarrassed when she felt like she could listen to the woman's voice forever and be content. Almost reluctantly, Evelyn shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand,"

The woman merely continued to smile before bringing Evelyn's attention to the goblet in her hand. She bent a little and offered it to Evelyn, encouraging her to take it.

"Á le faug? Sí, gerin penen an le." Are you thirsty? Here, I have some water for you.

The woman moved the cup closer to Evelyn and after a moment, she finally took it, peering inside. It was water…or at least, it looked like it. The ethereal woman stood up and waited. Evelyn, unsure of what else to do, sniffed the cup and upon realizing it smelled of nothing foul, tentatively brought the cool silver to her lips and took a very tiny sip. It was water all right, but it was unlike water she'd ever had – it was sweet, yet tasteless and refreshing, like a cool breeze on a warm afternoon. She tilted the cup further and drank with less hesitancy, not realizing her thirst until she'd drained the cup. Even the water was incredible here.

The woman sat down beside Evelyn and took the cup from her when she'd finished. Evelyn turned towards her, her hands in her lap now. The beautiful woman seemed to study her, not with mal-intent, but with curiosity and benevolence. Finally, just as Evelyn was becoming slightly uncomfortable, she performed the same gesture Legolas had when he'd introduced himself.

"Arwen," she said, rolling the 'r' and looking at Evelyn in anticipation. Evelyn's mouth formed an 'o' and she said her name in return, imitating Arwen's movement.

"Evv-el-enn," Arwen repeated, pronouncing it much better then Legolas' "Eeve-lynn". The red head nodded.

"Le tolna Legolas Thrandulion?" Arwen pointed to the horse that was standing regally to the right of them then to the archway where Legolas had disappeared through. Evelyn understood and nodded.

"Yes. He found-"

But she cut herself off, for at that moment Legolas appeared in the archway and he was not alone. A man, slightly taller than Legolas, made his way down the steps and towards the two women. He walked as if floating on air, his long chestnut brown hair fluttering slightly in the breeze and with a start, she realized he looked startlingly like the woman to her right. And he had pointed ears (something that both intrigued her and made her apprehensive). She quickly glanced at Legolas to see if he had pointed ears too, but noticed his hair was covering them – most likely that's why she hadn't noticed it before now. She turned her gaze back to the newcomer, noticing that he also wore a circlet of silver fashioned in the same way as Arwen's, however his was more masculine and had tiny jewels laid in it. He must be royalty. A king or something, and Arwen must be, based on their physical similarities, his daughter, a princess. Evelyn was feeling smaller and smaller by the minute while in the presence of these people. The king, or whatever he was, spoke to Legolas then looked at Evelyn; Legolas replied, nodding. Silence followed, as the king seemed to contemplate something while staring at the stone floor. Evelyn looked between the three beings, feeling like she was on trial for something.

The king finally turned and strode slowly towards the two women. Evelyn immediately made to stand, but he waved her off and she gratefully sat back down, feeling like her knees wouldn't hold her weight quite yet. Once she was settled, he introduced himself as Elrond in the same manner as Legolas and Arwen – obviously word was getting out that she did not speak their language. Evelyn nodded and introduced herself as well. He pointed towards Legolas then to the horse then gestured to the area they now occupied and she gathered he was telling her that Legolas had told him how he'd found her and brought her here. She nodded and he smiled warmly, pausing for a moment. He then motioned for Arwen to stand, which she did, and he put his hand on her shoulder then brought his other hand over to his heart.

"She is your daughter," Evelyn pointed back and forth between the two of them and Elrond nodded. And then, once again, he gestured to the surrounding area, indicating the buildings in particular then indicated himself and finally to her and nodded. It took Evelyn a moment to realize that he was offering her a place to stay in his home. She was so surprised that her mouth hung open and she gaped at him, then at Arwen and finally at Legolas.

"I…I don't know what to say. Y-yes, thank you…I would…at least until I can figure this out, I-" she stopped abruptly when she remembered they had no idea what she was saying. Instead, she nodded with an embarrassed smile. Arwen smiled kindly before stepping forward and signaling that she should follow her. Elrond turned away from them and he and Legolas strode towards the pond, already deep in conversation. Evelyn watched them for a minute, and then, as gingerly as she could, she stood, pleased to find her legs could manage her weight, even if they were a bit wobbly still.

Arwen graciously took her time walking, as she seemed to know Evelyn was sore. The latter hardly seemed to be aware of where they were going – she was concentrating too hard on walking without falling. Finally, after what seemed like only a few minutes, they had stopped in front of large oak double doors that were carved with intricate, filigree-like patterns and painted in gold. Evelyn let out a whoosh of air.

"Wow, if the door looks like that, I wonder what the room…looks….like…" Her voice had trailed off because Arwen had opened the door. For the second time in less then four hours, Evelyn had her breath taken away. Most rooms had four walls, a ceiling, a bed, chairs and a table or two. In this room, it was hard to tell where nature ended and the room began. There was a vaulted ceiling lined with crown molding, and on one side where a solid wall should have been there were carved, open archways similar to the ones she'd seen at the entrance – what was more was that just beyond the archways was a balcony overlooking the area below. Evelyn made a mental note to walk out there as soon as she had the chance.

Opposite the 'archway wall' was another wall, but there were windows on this one and they were adorned with floor length curtains and opened to a view of the world beyond the walls of this palace. As for the furniture in the room, Evelyn saw that there was a bed that was clothed in a gold comforter with silver leaves embroidered in it and the fluffiest looking crisp white pillows Evelyn have ever seen. It was backed into the only solid wall in the bedroom, but, naturally, there was an arch over the headboard and within the arch was a being that was both man and woman at the same time and it held it's arms out as if to protect the one who slept within their embrace. It was indescribably beautiful with its soft curves and hard angles.

Taking her gaze from the strange being, Evelyn saw that among the other furniture was a wood table and two high-backed chairs, a few candelabras, a fireplace, a vanity, an armoire and a beside table, on top of which stood a basin, pitcher, washcloth and a vase of the loveliest flowers – all of which were carved in the same fashion as the rest of the room. Turning around, Evelyn noticed the last part of the room – a door next to the double doors – she assumed this was a bathroom of sorts. Finishing her study of the room, Evelyn turned to Arwen and found that the woman was smiling softly at her amazement.

"Beautiful. Thank you," Evelyn said and, unsure as to what to do, she made a small bow.

Arwen lifted Evelyn's chin, bringing her out of her bow, then placed her delicate hand on Evelyn's shoulder as if to say 'you're welcome'. And with another smile, Arwen left Evelyn to her own devices, closing the double doors behind her.

Evelyn stood rooted to the spot for a moment, simply appreciating the beauty and craftsmanship of this place. It made her almost sad that people didn't take such care and pride in their homes anymore like these people did.

Unable to resist the temptation further, Evelyn walked to her balcony and stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. Her jaw dropped and her breath was stolen. The view was magnificent. She seemed to be at the furthest point north of the whole place with nothing beyond but the valley. Walking around, she found the archway curved to the front of her room, indicating that she was indeed the last room at the end of the building. She looked around. Waterfalls and trees laced the grounds and every now and then she spotted a stone bridge carved out of the earth or a walkway made of grass and tree roots, sometimes a pavilion with steps that led to a garden or pond. She knew that if she had time later, she would be out exploring until her heart's content.

Evelyn moved her gaze to the southern end of the residence where she'd evidently come from. She saw the large pillars and archway that she and Legolas had entered through earlier and from there, her eyes swept over towers, monoliths, and pillars, and bridges and archways that connected the whole place, weaving in and out of trees and over waterfalls. Everything was like a dream. And yet, upon closer examination, Evelyn suddenly realized that this place was old, very,_ very _old. There were vines and ivy that crept along the walls, some of the wood was slightly discolored with age and the stone was weathered. It had a sort of undiscovered _atlantian _feel to it, yet it's beauty and elegance made it timeless. Evelyn began twisting the ring on her finger as she continued to survey her surroundings. Even though this place was beautiful, it was still a bit eerie to her. Unnatural almost.

A knock at the door brought Evelyn out of her observations. She turned, partly expecting to see Arwen there but instead found another woman had entered her room. Unlike Arwen, she was dressed in a fairly simple, but nonetheless elegant light blue dress. She had chestnut brown hair and wore it half-gathered at the back of her head. Her eyes, Evelyn noticed, weren't as kind or wise as Arwen's but rather more stern and business-like.

"Um, hello," Evelyn said in tentative greeting. The woman nodded in acknowledgement before walking further into her room. It was then that Evelyn noticed a bundle of dark green cloth in her hands and a pair of soft looking shoes. She set them down on the bed then turned to Evelyn and raised a hand to her breast.

"Calithil," she said with a slight bow.

"Ev-"

"Evel-inn" Calithil interrupted, gesturing to Evelyn.

Evelyn nodded. "Yes," she thought the woman a little rude, but paid it no mind. Wasting no time, Calithil went to the bedside table and poured the pitcher of water into the basin and picked up the washcloth before extracting something small, white and solid looking from her pocket. She dipped the cloth into the water then rubbed the white block onto it, creating white foam. Evelyn realized it was soap. A moment later, Calithil turned to Evelyn and stared at her. With a start, Evelyn realized that this woman must have been something like a lady's maid. Taking the hint (and nearly tripping on her own feet), Evelyn hurried over to her, taking the surprisingly warm cloth and began to wash her face. When she'd finished, Evelyn found that the dark green bundle was actually a dress and Calithil had laid it out on the bed for her. Evelyn had barely turned around when a towel was being lightly pushed into her hands. Taking it, Evelyn dried her face before Calithil steered her towards the bed and went for the hem of her shirt. Evelyn stepped back hastily.

"Whoa, ah, ok. That's fine. I can manage," she said placing a hand out in front of her to stop Calithil. The woman stared indiscernibly at Evelyn before shrugging and turning around. After making sure she was going to stay like that, Evelyn hastily picked up the dress, discarded her wrinkled and dirty pajamas and tugged the light material over her head in record time. She cleared her throat and Calithil turned around. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly and motioned for Evelyn to turn around before adjusting the dress so that it fell properly on Evelyn's form. Frowning slightly, Evelyn felt that the gown was a bit tight, particularly around the chest and it pushed her bosom up in a way that made her feel a little self conscious – the scoop neckline of the gown fell quite low, lower then anything she herself owned. Calithil moved towards the vanity and picked up a very elaborate looking brush made of tiny, multi-colored bristles along with a, what appeared to be green hair clip extracted from a drawer on one side. She stepped back behind Evelyn and began to brush her long, wild mane of red hair.

"If you can manage to make this bird's nest look normal, I'll be quite impressed," Evelyn chuckled.

She knew she was saying this mostly to herself, but it amused her anyhow. She sighed and began picking at her nails as she waited for Calithil. By the time Calithil had finished tugging, pulling, twisting and pinching the sun was beginning to set. But before Evelyn could get to the mirror and utter thanks, Calithil had places the brush back on the vanity and swept from the room, pausing only to bow before she shut the doors behind her. Evelyn couldn't help but stare after her.

"Well, I guess not everyone is as welcoming as my hosts," she said aloud, making her way to the vanity's mirror, still staring at the door. "I mean it's not like I _asked _to be dumped here, I- _oh!" _

The woman in the mirror could not have been her. It was impossible. Her hair couldn't be controlled like that and her eyes certainly weren't _that _green. And yet, as she continued to look at her reflection, Evelyn was forced to admit that it _was _her. Somehow, Calithil had managed to tame her hair by sweeping one side of it up on her head and twisting it slightly before holding it with the carved green hair clip, allowing only a few wisps to fall gracefully down her neck. Evelyn looked down at the gown she wore; it was the color of dark emeralds and had simple gold trim around the neckline, sleeves and hem of the skirt. Her waist was accentuated with embroidered gold leaves that met just below her navel before falling to the floor in a single line, much like the Celtic women wore in the early middle ages. Sort of like a built-in belt when she thought about it. Clever. The green dress brought out her eyes as if they were made for each other and Evelyn had to marvel at how perfectly these people seemed to know her style and colors. Gazing back into the mirror, Evelyn couldn't help but stare at herself. She felt like one of them, silly as it sounded – she was dressed in the same fashion and wore her hair in the same fashion. The only difference was that no one she had seen thus far had fiery red hair, freckles or was below five feet ten inches.

"Eeve-lynn?"

Startled, Evelyn whirled around and found Legolas staring at her through the crack of her door. Evidently he'd been knocking and was unsure if he should enter. Calming her rapidly beating heart, Evelyn walked towards him and smiled.

"Hello, Legolas,"

He had changed from his traveling clothes into a burgundy colored tunic with gold patterns on it, a black leather belt, pants and suede boots. Atop his head was a circlet of intertwined silver, copper and gold leaves that met at his forehead to form a larger more detailed leaf that was emerald green. Evelyn gave a start – was he royalty too?

Before she could think on it further, Legolas held out his arm and looked at her. Her brow was furrowed for only a few seconds before she realized he wanted her to take it. Awkwardly, she linked her arm through his and, after he closed the door, he led her down the now torch-lit corridor and through the winding passages. The silence between them felt uncomfortable to Evelyn – the language barrier was so evident that she hardly knew what to do about it, so she said nothing. The sun had set and she saw that the moon was full as it rose over the horizon. It brought a whole different kind of beauty to the residence as it bathed the structures in silvery blue moonlight.

They walked through large halls decorated with paintings and tapestries. Evelyn saw various doors leading to different rooms before walking up some stairs that lead to a great hall. Light was pouring out of the archways and windows and Evelyn could hear people talking from within. Steering her inside, they found themselves in a large room. It was quite grandiose with a it's vaulted ceiling and grand staircase that led down to an open area that looked like it could double as both a banquet hall and a ballroom. Indeed, seated at a long table were a wide variety of people – odd looking people – there were short stout men with beards and tall elegant beings like Legolas, children with curly hair and even an elderly man with a long gray beard and matching hair. The latter was deep in conversation with Elrond, who sat at the head of the table, but both turned when Legolas and Evelyn entered the room. Evelyn gasped and dropped Legolas' arm when the elderly man's faded blue eyes met hers.

It couldn't be.

"D-dad?"

The hall grew silent as the elderly man stood abruptly.

"Evelyn?"

And with that, Legolas caught Evelyn's unconscious body before it hit the floor.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: A long one - hope ya'll liked it. Once again, sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes as well as Elvish mistakes. Let me know your thoughts - haven't had much of a response so I don't have much to go on...any thoughts would be welcomed :-)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**PLEASE READ A.N. AT THE BOTTOM.**

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><p>Chapter 4: Familiar Partings<p>

There is a feeling that is neither consciousness nor unconsciousness. It is something that exists after sleep but before wakefulness and Evelyn was in it at that state. She tried to force her eyelids open, but they were as heavy as sand bags and no matter how hard she tried, she could not lift them. Instead she was left – or rather, her mind was left – to determine what was real, that is to say reality, and what was imagination. She heard voices but saw images that did not match the voices. Men were speaking and occasionally, she caught her name in the toss of words that were thrown back and forth between them. The language they spoke was familiar yet she did not understand any of it. Both of the voices were also familiar (one in particular), yet she could not place them. Her frustration grew until finally, she was able to wrench her eyes open. Her body protested, begging her for more rest, warning her that she did not want to face whatever circumstance lay before her, but she ignored them.

It was dark, but the flickering of light on the wood of the walls and ceiling and the cracking and popping noises issuing from her left told her that a fire had been lit. It was only a moment before everything came back to her. And like a shock to her system, she sat up right and looked around for the voices, which were now mute when their owners realized another had join their presence.

Sitting in the only two high backed chairs in the room were Elrond, master of the house…and her father. She blinked; she closed her eyes then rubbed them as if willing them to see someone else. What her mind told her and her own eyes now beheld were two completely different things. It was utterly impossible – this was not real. It had to be a trick of her mind.

But there he sat, as calm and wise as ever, even if he had appeared to age a hundred years.

"Evelyn,"

He might as well have yelled for all the effect it had on the completely silent room. Twice she opened her mouth to speak, but where her jaw muscles were ready, her vocal cords clearly were not. She turned away from the two men and looked about. She hardly noticed Elrond get up and leave. Her eyes came to rest on the vase of flowers – they were glowing brilliant neon lights with the sort of luminescence that was only imagined from science fiction books or movies. Much like the place she was in now. Where it should have fascinated her it merely unnerved her further. The bed sank next to her and she felt his eyes on her. She unconsciously twisted the ring on her finger, seeking comfort from the familiar cool metal. It worked, just as it always did and she drew strength from it. Steeling herself, Evelyn forced her head to turn and face him.

Through all the wrinkles, the bushy eyebrows and the thick grey beard, the man that sat before her was unmistakably her father. If nothing else it was his eyes that _really_ confirmed it – their light blue depths still saw her secrets, saw her as a child playing on the swings and still twinkled with an uncanny shrewdness she'd never seen the likes of in anyone else.

"How are you here? This isn't possible-_YOU _aren't possible," the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. She felt suddenly old and drained.

He said nothing – the only indication that he'd heard her at all was the downcasting of his eyes.

"You…you left us. You left mom and Christopher and…and _me. _You left _me,_" Warm tears were welling in her eyes and she turned away, unable to bear the thought of him witnessing something so intimate and personal. When she'd collected herself, she looked back at him, only to find that his eyes remained fixed on the bed covers. It was oddly comforting to her that he allowed her the space and privacy she so desired as she wiped her tears away. She stayed quiet for a few moments more; she wanted answers and she wanted them now, but not from him – she wanted _him_ gone. But in the end, the need for answers won out. She leveled him with her gaze.

"Explain." She said simply and without room for debate.

Still, the old man did not look at her. He seemed to be occupying himself with staring at the silver leaf and vine patterns embroidered on the gold silk of her comforter. The seconds turned in to minutes and still he did not say anything. Her patience was wearing thin, so Evelyn spoke.

"Dad-"

"Gandalf." He cut her off.

Evelyn stared at him. "Excuse me?"

The old man finally sat up and leaned into his high backed chair with a deep breath. "You must call me Gandalf. No one must know you are my daughter and I your father. We must pretend we do not know each other, or both our lives will be in danger,"

Whatever she'd been expecting, it was _not_ that. Instinctively, Evelyn searched the room as if looking for the rest of the answers to her demanded explanation. Obviously, she'd found none. When she looked up, she saw that the seat Gandalf had occupied was empty and the man himself was nearly at the door.

"That's it? 'Pretend I'm not your dad and you're not my daughter'?" she said, throwing his words back at him. "That's all you have to say after being out of my life for twenty years and suddenly reappearing?" Despite the poisonous words, she was still able to control her anger and keep her voice steady. She clenched and unclenched her fists beneath the covers. Gandalf paused at the door and turned around.

"That is all I _can _tell you. The elves-"

"_Elves_?"

"-do not know what the word 'dad' means, but I suspect they'll figure it out if you'd kept using it, which is why you must call me Gandalf just as everyone else does here. Lord Elrond knows but he will keep it a secret. You need rest. The elves' days begin much earlier then you are used to. I'll have someone come in daily an hour before noon to give you lessons in elvish. Do not disappoint me, Evelyn,"

And without so much as a backwards glance, he was through the door of her room in a remarkably similar rendition of what he'd done twenty years ago. And just like she did when she was a child, she watched him leave, a confused expression on her face.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>**:** Shorter one this time - I try to keep the chapters a similar length but sometimes they just end themselves. Thank you very much for the feedback from all of you - much appreciated. Out of curiosity, what do ya'll hate in fictions like these? Or in fanfictions in general? What do you wish you saw more of? I try to make mine fairly realistic and creative but I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Tenth Walker

She'd listened to the chirps of crickets until they turned to birdcalls, the drone of cicadas until they'd turned to the buzzing of bees and the smell of the chilled night until it turned to the crisp freshness of morning mist. The only thing that had remained consistent as night traded places with day was the sound of the steadily beating water as it fell from great heights and trickled along the unmovable rocks of the stream-beds. Water was an amazing element and as a pisces, she felt connected to it; it was fresh, cleansing and pure, but most of all it was constant. Water sounded the same now as it did since the beginning of time; it was ever soothing and at the moment, she felt like it was the only comforting thing in her current situation. This place was a plethora of waterfalls and trees – it was a private paradise, but it was also a place where more and more problems arose. Tired of those thoughts, she pushed them aside and focused on the horizon.

Dawn broke in beautiful ribbons of gold and orange, slowly illuminating the valley that Rivendell was nestled in with soft light. Evelyn couldn't help but yawn; despite _Gandalf's_ firm suggestions that she get sleep, Evelyn found herself wide-awake the whole night, contenting her bout of insomnia by alternating between lying awake in bed and stepping out onto the balcony, gazing out across the land and into the numerous stars that dotted the black velvet sky. She had been pleased to find a sort of loveseat and table was positioned at one end of the balcony and that was where she now found herself, wrapped in the comforter that had been on her bed as she stared at the breaking dawn. Her thoughts had been a mess, but now she just felt weary as she sat curled up in warmth.

She watched Elrond's home wake up and its inhabitants begin their day. Her gaze drifted across the archways, up the trees and along the balconies of other rooms. A few people – or rather, elves – were milling about, engaging in morning routines she imagined they'd had for many, many years. She did not notice one elf in particular, however, as he stepped out onto his own balcony and savored the chilled, fresh morning air as it washed over him.

Legolas, however, noticed her. It was hard not to, at his angle. Her balcony was directly in front of him, thought it was higher up and her red hair, caught in the early morning sunlight, seemed to be on fire. He'd never seen hair like it in his many years - most of his kind had fair hair or dark brown and black hair, like Arwen and Elrond. Even among men he'd not seen it, well at least not of that vibrant shade.

Evelyn yawned and he frowned. Had she not gotten sleep? Then again, if he'd woken up in a strange place with strange people and an unfamiliar language, he didn't suppose he'd get sleep either.

His sharp eyes continued to observe her, simply curious about who she was and why she was here. She was clearly one of the race of man, but yet she was different. Though he'd traveled far and wide, he'd found that everything from her hairstyle to her clothes and her speech was completely foreign to him. And though he was curious about her, he knew he had far more important matters at hand and could not be troubled about a young girl. The coming journey would be of a dangerous and risky nature, the likes of which he'd never been on before. It would require all of his strength and endurance.

Legolas' thoughts were broken when his eyes refocused on the balcony above him as one of the servants brought Evelyn some fruit and bread to break her fast. Evelyn smiled politely and seemed to thank the elf, who then quickly straightened up the room and left shortly thereafter. The woman ignored the plate of food and instead turned back to wonder at the morning. Though she seemed lost in thought, Legolas picked up on the slight frown that occasionally graced her lips; it saddened his heart to see her so dispirited.

A knock at his own door drew his attention and he called for the guest to enter. Elrond strode in and Legolas greeted him warmly in the traditional Elvish fashion. The pair of them sat down at Legolas' table and after some polite conversation, Elrond adopted a more business-like tone.

"The fellowship is to leave in two months time. The delay is due in part to Lady Evelyn's arrival, however it can also be said – understandably - that many wish to soak in the leisure of time before embarking on the journey ahead,"

Legolas nodded but otherwise remained silent, waiting for the Lord of the house to continue. Elrond poured a glass of water into a crystal goblet and drank. He stood and Legolas followed suit. They both wandered out onto Legolas' balcony, Elrond taking the woodland elf's former place and staring up at the young woman. After a long while, Elrond spoke.

"I have consulted with Gandalf and he agrees it is best that you know, however I must implore you not to breathe a word of what I am about to tell you to anyone else. Estel and you are the only others besides Gandalf who will know and we'd like to keep it that way," Elrond's voice assumed a suddenly serious tone and he turned his penetrating gaze on the younger elf. "Lady Evelyn, as I'm sure you've surmised, does not come from these parts. As a matter of fact, she does not come from this world but rather a world that is parallel to our own,"

It was only through a thousand years of practiced stoicism that Legolas was able to take in this astonishing news without reaction. Of course he knew she wasn't from these parts, but to come from an entirely different world was, well, impossible; it was only something you read about in books or heard tell of in tall-tales_._

"How she ended up here is yet to be seen and something both Gandalf and I are investigating, though we have our theories," Legolas knew better then to ask if Elrond would not divulge these theories on his own accord. "What we do suspect to be true is that she is to accompany the fellowship on the journey to destroy the one ring. I cannot explain why and I beg you not to ask but to put your faith in Mithrandir and myself," Elrond paused to allow Legolas to ask a few questions.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Elrond, but is it wise that someone so young and so…inexperienced, and a woman no less travel with men she does not know through lands she's hardly ever seen and immerse herself in unspeakable dangers?" Legolas asked.

Elrond's shoulders seemed to sag under an invisible but nonetheless weary weight. He pinched the bridge of his nose, the skin of his forehead wrinkling in displeasure. "This is the crux of it all – I argued with Gandalf for the same reasons that you've just voiced but he seems to feel that it is unavoidable. And he is very firm on that front. My heart breaks at the thought of sending such a young woman with the fellowship, truly it does, but we have to remind ourselves that the hobbits are not unlike the her in that they too are inexperienced and young and _small, _but I believe they can endure as will Evelyn, with some practice,"

"That is true, but they go of their own accord. What if Evelyn does not wish to go? We cannot force her,"

"I'm afraid we won't have to," Legolas frowned and went to argue, but Elrond held up a hand and shook his head. "As I said, I cannot explain now but I will before you depart," Elrond replied with a small smile. "I know it is frustrating, but until Gandalf and I and the Lady of the Wood have all held council, nothing can be determined for sure as of yet."

Legolas was not surprised at the mention of the Golden Lady. She was, after all, one of the original ring-bearers. A long silent moment passed before Legolas spoke again. "I mean no disrespect, Lord Elrond, but why do you tell _me_ this?"

Elrond chuckled wryly. "You are part of the fellowship and the one who found Lady Evelyn," Elrond said pointedly, and Legolas suddenly understood.

"You wish for me to look out for the girl," it was a statement, not a question. "Forgive me, but Gandalf and Aragorn are both a part of the fellowship so would it not make more sense that either of them look out for her given they'll know her situation?"

"You are correct, it would make more sense, however Aragorn has enough on his shoulders at the moment and Gandlaf's part in her life will not be protector but teacher. I apologize for the frustrating lack of information but I promise you'll know more soon enough." Legolas frowned slightly at the cryptic words but Elrond did not give him time to contemplate them further. "Legolas, we trust those whose faces we come to know far more easily then those we've just met – Lady Evelyn will be no different."

They both watched as Evelyn stood up from her seat and made her way into her bedroom, the plate of food still untouched. Elrond sighed and his grey eyes seemed to suddenly show his true age. "Between you and me, I have never seen Mithrandir this shaken in the many centuries we have known one another. It worries me greatly," Legolas nodded, appreciating the Elven Lord's trust and faith in him that he should share his concerns, but still confused as to their meaning.

"But above all that, her presence here is unexpected and has set in motion a future I cannot see and that is far more worrisome then anything else. Legolas," Elrond turned to the Prince, an unnerving expression on his face – it looked like a combination of apprehension and uncertainty. "I fear the fate of this world lies not just in Frodo but in this woman's as well. It is _her_ role in this that could destroy us or save us and no one knows her," Elrond moved towards the door and paused. He looked sad and lost in thought. "No one, not even her own father."

And with that, Elrond left the Prince of Mirkwood to stand there, his final words _…not even her own father _ringing in his head. Legolas looked up at the empty balcony, contemplating this information and to harboring a new judgment on Lady Evelyn.

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><p><strong>A.N.<strong> Well, not as much response as I would've hoped for on the last chapter - I expect that that means many of you aren't liking where this is going (and I'm willing to bet that after this chapter you'll think it's going to turn into a typical mary-sue LOTR tenth walker story), but rest assured, you've not read anything like what I've brewed up for you. All I can say is _trust me._ This is going to prove to be a fun journey we take together.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Fade

Evelyn was crying.

Evelyn was crying and the weather outside was crying with her. She wasn't sobbing or screaming, she simply sat on the edge of her bed and allowed the salty tears to slide down her cheeks. Part of her appreciated that the weather matched her mood – rain was soothing and she was grateful for it's comfort as she watched the drops fall steadily for the last few hours. The books that lay strewn over her bed lay forgotten for the time being. She had been here a week and the strain was eating at her. This was the first time she allowed herself the tears. Some part of her had held out as long as it could in hopes that she would wake up from this dream (or nightmare) that it would all end and she'd be home in her apartment getting ready for work like any other day.

Yet her wishes did not come true. She was still here. And so were the elves and her father.

Gandalf attempted to see her a few times, but after the third meeting, he must have decided that stony silence would accomplish nothing and had stopped coming to see her three days ago. The only persons who'd been in and out of her room were her maid, Calithil, and her linguistics tutor, Braení. Evelyn did not leave her place of solitude once, not since the day Legolas had taken her to the great hall. Because of this, all Evelyn had to occupy herself with day in and day out was to thumb through the pages of the books Braení brought for her to look at or practice the lessons she'd given her. Evelyn found that both the elvish language and common tongue (Westron, she remembered) were fairly easy to pick up and was able to hold a somewhat stable (albeit slow) conversation with the tutor in each language. And although Braení was excited about it, Calithil seemed to hardly care at all.

There was a knock at the door and Evelyn brushed the tears from her eyes, fanning herself so as not to draw attention to her warm, blotchy cheeks before calling "Enter" in elvish. Braení came in with a wide smile on her face and Evelyn couldn't help but smile back. The young elven woman always seemed to carry a smile with her no matter where she went.

"Evelyn! Well met! How fares my fire-haired pupil today?" She glanced at the bed and beamed. "You have been practicing! And a lot, it seems,"

Evelyn took a moment to translate the words in her head before nodding.

"I have. There's not much else to do here besides," Evelyn saw Braení frown.

"Tis untrue, my friend – you could go out and explore the grounds or take your dinner in the great hall like everyone else,"

Evelyn only smiled and nodded before looking at the book in her lap – Braení's beaming smiled turned sad. Evelyn, for whatever reason, did not wish to join the others in the Last Homely House or even be seen by them. She didn't understand why and wondered if it was because Evelyn was afraid of them – her instincts told her to leave it be, however, and instead sat next to Evelyn on the fluffy mattress.

"What shall it be today? You have mastered word structure and know all of the common phrases – shell we simply read today?"

Evelyn nodded and grabbed a large heavy tome to her right depicting the history of the 1st age of, what she now knew as _Middle Earth_. Braení thought it was a good way to learn both the elvish language _and _the history of the world in which they lived.

She learned that the elves were the first-born race of Middle Earth and knew of their dangerous journey from their place of birth to the realms in which they now lived. She read about the evils of Melkor and the first kinslayings, the creation of the moon and sun and about the Valar, which Evelyn equated to powerful angel who carry out the will of Eru Ilúvatar, their almighty God and Creator. It wasn't until Middle Earth's four hundredth year of acknowledged existence did the first men appear. It was here that Evelyn learned of the tale of Beren and Lúthien and she found it heart-breaking.

"..and it was there in Ossiriand, the land they dwelt in, that they died again in the ways of man." Evelyn paused, her mouth slightly agape.

Braení looked up when Evelyn's pause went on longer then normal.

"Evelyn? Why do you falter? You were doing fine."

Evelyn stared at the painting of a beautiful woman dancing in the wood and a man shrouded in bushes as he watched her.

"I-I don't understand. Elves are immortal…" She trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her questions, but Braení quirked her lips considerately.

"Ah, you don't understand the death."

Evelyn nodded.

"Elves all come from the same place, Valinor, but in the original journey to Middle Earth, they were separated into clans based on how far they made it from the Undying Lands. That is how we have the Vanyar, the Noldor, the Teleri and so on," Evelyn closed the book and focused on Braení. "What you must understand is at the beginning, all Elves started out as immortal, only capable of dying if they were mortally wounded or from grief. But in time, there were some elves that bonded with men and thus had children – these children are called Peredhil, or half-elf. Elves like Lady Arwen, her brothers Elrohir and Elladan and Lord Elrond are Peredhil, which means they can choose to live as a mortal if they wish."

"I'm sorry, but I still do not understand. What do you mean they can 'die from grief'" asked Evelyn, confused.

"Well, when Elves love, they love for eternity and should their partner die, it is inevitable that they too will fade. There are few exceptions to this, like Finwë, first High King of the Noldor who remarried after the death of his first wife and even Lord Elrond recovered when Lady Celebrían passed on to Valinor, though many believe that was due to his children. Personally I believe he knew he'd see her again and that's what kept him going," Braení smiled whimsically before looking back at Evelyn. "Lúthien was a full-blooded elf and when Beren died, she faded away from grief for her heart had been broken,"

"But how can you just…fade? It sounds far too romantic to be a reality,"

Braení studied Evelyn for a minute. She seemed to be thinking how best to explain. Evelyn shifted back on the bed and brought her knees up to sit Indian-style. After a few minutes, Braení finally spoke.

"Elves see themselves as two different parts: the Fëa, or spirit, and the Hroa, the body. Neither are bound to each other, but without the Hroa, the Fëa is powerless, and with no spirit, the body is, essentially, dead. 'Tis like a boat without a rudder or any means by which to have a purpose. When an elf fades from grief it means that their Fëa is so consumed by pain and anguish that to be bound to the body would be more like being trapped in a prison with no light or hope and only their sorrow to keep them company. When that happens, an elf will find a peaceful spot and go to sleep, but they never wake up." Here, Braení paused and Evelyn, though fascinated, sensed her discomfort. "It is not fully known what happens after that, after all not many Elves have separated Fëa from Hroa and come back to tell us about it, but what is speculated is that, whether they die of grief or of wounds, all Fëar is then summoned to the Halls of Mandos. Those that do not accept the summons are corrupt and so fearing Mandos, they roam Middle Earth trying to take over some other Hroa that already contains a Fëa. Those that _do _accept the summons to the Halls of Mandos go there and await judgment. After a period of time, they either are doomed to stay in Mandos for eternity, may be incarnated in a new-born body, identical to the previous, or their Fëa may go on to Valinor. Most choose this route, only Lúthien and Glorfindel have chosen to come back in their original bodies." Braení finished her dialogue. She was standing in an archway that led to the balcony, her arms wrapped around her as she stared into the slowly setting sun.

Evelyn could not repress a shudder. It sounded horrible to her. The silence stretched on as Evelyn searched for words.

"It sounds like a terrible fate. To always be conscious, to always be alive but not…to die would almost be a relief,"

Braení turned and smiled. "'Tis not so! Yes, men have the gift of death and thus eternal rest, but Valinor is said to be a beautiful place. It is a land of comfort and peace, a place no evil can touch. Time does not exist there and for Elves, that is a blessed thing," Braení sat down next to Evelyn with a thoughtful look on her face. "It is, in a way, like death for men, the difference being that we do not fear it because we know where we shall go, Men, however, only know that they pass into the Halls of Mandos, but after that, it is a mystery. They are not offered what the Eldar are offered. 'Tis why they fear death; it is the unknown."

Evelyn nodded a bit numbly. She had not expected a conversation on life and death as seen for each race, but there you have it. She released a breath and shook her head. "Wow, what an afterlife," she mumbled to herself. When Braení looked at her oddly, she realized she'd spoken in English and quickly translated it for Braení. The elf-maiden laughed and patted Evelyn on the shoulder.

"Indeed! Truer words were never spoke," she stood and put her hands on her hips. "Now, enough talk of sad things – you are coming with me to supper this eve and I _won't-_" she'd risen her voice above Evelyn's protests. "-hear another word against it. Come on. Ah! Here is Calithil. Calithil, tell the kitchens that Evelyn will be dining in the great hall tonight." Calithil, who'd just entered the room, bowed her head and retreated back down the hall, closing the door behind her. Braení immediately whirled on Evelyn's wardrobe.

"Oh, what shall we have you wear," she stated absently as she pulled open the wood doors and rifled through the gowns.

"What is wrong with what I have on?" Evelyn stood and attempted to flatten the wrinkles that seemed ironed into her shirt and pants.

"By the light, no! Are you mad? You cannot dine in a tunic and breeches. It is unseemly. Ladies must wear gowns. However why you insist on wearing such masculine clothing, even in the comfort of your own room is beyond my reckoning," The elf pulled out a gown the color of lavender and placed it on the bed. She then snapped her fingers at Evelyn, insisting she take off her clothing and put the dress on. Evelyn scowled at Braení before reluctantly tugging off the tunic and breeches, standing only in her panties and bra.

"That is such a peculiar contraption," Braení remarked, pointing at Evelyn's bra. "What does it do again?"

Evelyn chuckled at the elf's bewildered expression.

"It lifts and holds my girls – er – chest up. And with what I'm packing, I need all support I can get," Evelyn pulled the gown over her head.

Braení shook her head as if completely confounded by the shapely garment. "It seems awfully uncomfortable if you ask me." She shrugged and helped lace the bodice of Evelyn's gown. "Elves are not ashamed of their bodies and therefore do not need such things,"

"Yes, well, Elves - tall as they are - are also very petite and therefore don't need lift or support. We mortal women need all the help we can get to tighten ourselves up," Evelyn mumbled in English.

"Oh looked, it stopped raining finally! Wait, what did you say?" Braení asked as she tugged the strings tighter.

"Nothing. Are you finished yet?" Evelyn asked, puffing a little.

"Just about. Ah, there we go." She said, stepping back and admiring her handy-work. "Just shake a little to give your, what did you call them? Oh yes, _girls_ some help and then we can move on to your hair."

Evelyn walked to the mirror and paled at seeing her reflection

"Help them? Have you lost your mind? I'm practically _spilling_ out of this. No, no I won't wear this - it is far too low-cut. Help me take it off," Evelyn said, wincing as she tried to reach the laces on her back. Braení stilled her hands and grinned.

"You are not _spilling _out of the gown. It looks very elegant and fetching on you so stop your fussing," Braení batted Evelyn's hands away and started on the mass of red curls. She frowned and bit her lip. "How on earth do you tame this wild mane of hair? It is so thick and…and…_wild,_" she finished lamely.

Evelyn sighed and rolled her eyes, amused. Grabbing a barrette from her vanity, she did a quick up-do, allowing a few wisps of hair to tickle her collarbone. Braení could only stare in amazement. Evelyn chuckled and laced her arm through Braení's, steering her to the door.

"My friend, when you've lived with hair like this long enough, you learn a trick or two,"

And so, laughing together, Evelyn and Braení made their way towards the Great Hall for supper.

* * *

><p>A.N. - Hope you enjoyed it! The delay was due to me getting a full-time job (go figure) - sorry about that. I'll update as much as I can.<p> 


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